The Clues in the Presents
by TrthIsOutThere
Summary: The death of a South African Ambassador takes Booth and Bones and the Squint Squad on a whirlwind chase to beat the clock before another victim is claimed. Vague summary. R&R, please!
1. Not Really A Suicide

Disclaimer: I don't own BONES.

Summary: There's more than just gifts under this Christmas tree...The death of the South African Ambassador takes Bones and Booth on a whirlwind adventure where they need to beat the clock before the next victim is killed. (I'm not good at these, just read to see what's going on lol)

A/N: Okay...this is my first Bones fic. I actually got the idea from listening to Dane Cook's "Self-Assassination" act. Google it, you'll see what I mean lol. Anyway...it's pretty much a standalone, though I did set the timeline with the current show timeline. Yeah, yeah...there's a little bit of the same idea as Angels and Demons in here too, but let's face it: most acts of violence have been committed before. There's only so many ways to commit serial murders without turning into a copycat in some way or another. Anyway, review! I, myself, am pretty pleased this one, so I'd like to hear your opinion too. Let me know what you think.

A/N 2: I referred to Booth as Seeley this whole chapter. I promise that will change starting with Chapter 2.

* * *

Special Agent Seeley Booth stared up at a nondescript third-story window in the South African Embassy and sighed, grinding his jaw back and forth annoyed. Another day, another case…another death investigation. A holiday suicide, of all things. His eyebrows rose on his forehead and groaned as he removed his sunglasses. He and his squint were only there to confirm that no foul play had been committed. Walking up to the yellow police tape crossing the main entrance of the building, he pulled out his badge and flashed it at the young officer. "Seeley Booth, FBI," he said quickly, flipping his badge closed and sliding it back into his jacket's inner pocket smoothly. He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder. Cam had been called in for this case. The death was recent; therefore the flesh was still intact. Flesh was Cam's department exclusively. "Dr. Camille Saroyan from the Jeffersonian Institute." Seeley stepped forward but was stopped by the kid's arm extended into his path. He glared at the other man darkly.

The young officer glanced down at the clipboard in his hand. "I need to sign you in, Agent Booth." He met Seeley's dark eyes and smiled. "Protocol."

Seeley's eyes flashed. "Hey, listen, buddy. You guys called _me_…" This kid couldn't be more than twelve years old, Seeley fumed to himself. He had, _by far_, better things to be doing at nine o'clock on a Saturday morning.

"I just need your badge number, Agent Booth," the younger officer stated, unwavering.

"JTT1013473," Booth spit out quickly. He glanced at his watch impatiently. "Seeley, S-E-E-L-_E_-Y at zero-nine-fifteen." He ducked under the tape and waited for Cam on the other side of the door. She joined him a moment later and kneeled down, opening her equipment box and removing blue covers sporting the Jeffersonian's Vitruvian-like medicolegal investigative unit's yellow symbol. She pulled them on over her neatly pressed pants and suit jacket and zipped it up under her chin. Next, she slid the yellow tinted protective glasses on top of her head and shut the box, nodding to Seeley that they could now ascend to the ambassador's suite.

In the elevator, Cam tried to mask her amused expression under a look sincerity, but every time she glanced over to see Seeley's fingers dancing on the elevator's silver rails she had to turn away. "Did you have something better to do, Seeley?" She shifted her tool box in front of her, holding it with all her fingers against her thighs.

Seeley smirked. "I have Parker this weekend. This case is putting a slight damper on my plans."

Cam nodded. "Ah, I see. Well, this shouldn't take too long. Where is Parker now?"

Seeley's smirk expanded and he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning casually against the wall behind him. "I left him with Bones."

His response caused Cam to pause. The doors slid open before she was able to vocalize her concern. "You left your son with Dr. Brennan?"

Seeley shrugged and motioned for her to lead the way out of the elevator. "Parker thinks Bones is great. The surprise is that she actually offered to take care of Parker for me." He smiled again.

Cam frowned, but accepted this with a curt, confused nod. Stranger things have happened since she began working at the Jeffersonian. As she walked into the room, she kicked herself for speaking too soon. The victim's body hung suspended roughly ten inches off the floor by what appeared to be a lamp cord. The evidence in and of itself was not odd, it was the…_decorations_ on the body that had her choking on her earlier thoughts. A strand of Christmas lights had been wound around the victim's body and ornaments had been hooked to his shirt and pants. Wrapped gift boxes had been wired to his feet. She immediately noticed his pale complexion, but accredited it to the blood settling at the victim's feet.

Cam stared at the human Christmas tree with a frown firmly planted on her forehead. Seeley brushed by her in the open door way, whistling as his eyes landed on the victim. They exchanged glances for several moments before Cam broke away, eyebrows high on her forehead. "Okay! Let's get this over with, shall we?" Seeley nodded and immediately sought out the officer in charge of the scene.

The death was relatively recent, judging by the lack of pungent scents in the air. The stiff state of the body told her that time of death had occurred within the past ten hours. Further inspection would give her a better idea. Cam approached the body slowly, leaning down to drop her kit on the floor. She pulled a can of Vick's Vapor Rub and rubbed it on under her nose, inhaling deeply to make sure the mentholated cream had overpowered the smell of early decay. The smell may not have been overwhelming, but that didn't make it pleasant. No one ever said death is pretty. She pulled on two rubber gloves on each hand and stepped closer to the body, glancing up and down the body in an initial inspection.

A member of the coroner's office stepped up beside her, his blue windbreaker loudly proclaiming his affiliation in capital letters across the back. "Dr. Saroyan? Lieutenant Benjamin Caldwell. I'm from the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, Washington, D.C."

Cam turned her head briefly to regard him, the thoughtful frown never leaving her brow. Caldwell was a lean, red-headed young man with unremarkable brown eyes. He wore glasses and his hair was short. She motioned to the body. "What can you tell me?"

Lieutenant Caldwell pulled a notebook from his pocket and flipped through it, but changed his mind and closed it again, shrugging and shaking his head. "It appears pretty typical for a suicide, aside from the fact that he's lit up like a Christmas tree…pardon the pun." His lips pulled in a tight, small smile. Humor is what got people in their line of work through the day. Cam acknowledged his joke with the slightest, understanding upward twitch of her mouth. "Truthfully, DCPD secured the scene and we came in to declare death. Aside from that, no one has touched anything here or began any true investigation. If you don't mind, would it be alright if I hung over your shoulder? I do need something to put in a final report."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem, Lieutenant. Agent Booth and I don't really think that anything out of the ordinary is happening here." Armed with two layers of rubber between her and the dead South African Ambassador, Cam began to slowly remove the gifts from around the victim's feet one by one. She called one of DCPD's criminalists over to photograph and bag the evidence, keeping one eye on him to make sure he bagged everything correctly. After the gifts had been moved to the side, Cam reached up and began to unwrap the string of lights. As she walked slowly around the body, her eyes slid over his wrists, causing her to frown and drop the strand of lights on the floor.

She leaned in close and squinted at the mottled complexion on the man's wrists, knowing full well that the bruises occurred antemortem.

"Dr. Saroyan?" Caldwell asked, a concerned frown creasing his forehead.

She glanced up and noticed the blood beginning to seep through the white tuxedo shirt and reached up to unbutton the first few buttons. The victim's chest had been wrapped tightly in gauze and medical wraps and then wrapped once with plastic wrap. Though there was no blood pumping, it had finally managed to seep downwards and out from below the plastic wrapping. This was definitely not a suicide.

* * *

Seeley walked quickly up to the officer in charge on the scene. Parker's visits were becoming less and less frequent and he truly did not appreciate getting called in on his day off to investigate an ambassador's suicide. Was that even in FBI jurisdiction? His previous stint with a brain tumor left him unable to remember and he barely recovered from the faltering the thought caused.

"Whoa, sir. Are you alright?" the man was at his side in an instant, his hand at Seeley's elbow to steady him.

Seeley shrugged the older man off and nodded. He motioned behind him. "Yeah…yeah, I…uh…not enough coffee yet this morning."

The other man smiled, his blue eyes twinkling, and nodded, tugging at the bottom of his black jacket. He held out his hand in greeting. Seeley shook it firmly. "Captain Vernon Gretsch." Vernon Gretsch reminded Seeley of Santa Clause. How fitting for the case that he and Cam just walked into.

"Special Agent Booth. Go ahead and give me the run down, Captain."

Captain Gretsch nodded and the twinkle faded as he was reminded of the case at hand. He turned slightly toward the body and motioned with his head to Cam. "She with you?"

Seeley nodded. "The FBI partners with the Jeffersonian institute in investigations on major crimes. She's their resident M.E. Doctor Camille Saroyan."

Captain Gretsch nodded again and then took a deep breath before beginning his story. "Dispatch received a 911 call around seven this morning from the victim's wife, who was returning from a night out on the town, saying that Bongani Ndebele was dead. We arrived on scene, put the chair back under his feet and tried to revive him. We loosened the noose, but we knew he was DOA. We waited for the coroner's office to arrive and pronounce, secured the scene, photographed, and questioned the wife. We left the actual collection of evidence for you. Then you guys showed up."

"Where's the wife now?"

Captain Gretsch used his forehead to point down the hall outside the suite. "A few rooms down, a drunken mess. She's much younger than the Ambassador."

A wry smile spread across Seeley's face and a chuckle escaped his lips. "Anything else?"

The officer shook his head apologetically. "It's a pretty suicide, as morbid as that may be." As an afterthought, his eyes perked again. "Say…your name wouldn't happen to be _Seeley_, would it?"

Seeley nodded. "Seeley Booth, that's me."

He turned away from Seeley and motioned for him to follow. "_I_ did find this." He approached a desk on the far side of the room, picking up a gallon-sized Ziploc bag holding a sloppily folded piece of paper and handing it to Seeley. "You might find particular interest in this."

Seeley removed a set of gloves from his pocket and pulled them on. He pulled the paper out and carefully unfolded it. The letter was short and written in sloppy handwriting. Black ink. He looked down at the pen on the desk, haphazardly thrown to the side instead of replaced neatly among the others in the pen holder on the corner of the desk. Several other sheets of paper had been pulled from the printer and nothing appeared to have been replaced to its original state, as if the author of the letter wanted to get it over with quickly. He turned back to the letter and it didn't take him more than the first line to realize why this letter may interest him. It was addressed to him.

_Hello Seeley, there's a gift for you under the tree. I knew this was the only way to get your attention._

'_twas season for Christmas_

_And already this one_

_Was made victim to mayhem_

_It's been oh, so much fun_

_He cried like an infant_

_At the sight of my gun_

_And keeled over quickly_

_With bullet oh-one_

_You've screwed me just once_

_That's a shame on me_

_But will it happen again?_

_We'll just have to see_

_There is one gift for all_

_Under my tall man-made tree_

_And each holds a clue _

_For Vic number three._

_Merry Christmas, Seeley Booth. Give my regards to your partner._

_Forever Anonymous_

_PS- don't bother looking for the first victim, it's too late for them anyway._

Seeley looked up at the officer with wildly alarmed eyes.

Captain Gretsch's voice lowered. "I've been hiding it all morning. It appeared in my squad car with a note to plant it on the crime scene."

Seeley turned on his heels at the same time he heard a strand of lights clatter to the tiled floor. "Cam?" he called, while she simultaneously called him. "Booth?"

* * *

I'll update as soon as I can, but there's some details I have to work out...like how the killer knows Booth and Bones...oops. I'll probably dedicate an entire chapter to them at some point early on. Sorry for any mistakes. I got really excited about posting this one. Let me know what you think!

trthisoutthere


	2. Tact

I don't own Bones.

Okay, well here's chapter 2. I really like this idea that has started and I'm mulling over several options for the direction of this fic. I hope that it will be incredibly entertaining. Sorry that this chapter is short. I hope to have the next chapter done soon. Please review!

* * *

By the time Dr. Temperance Brennan arrived at the Jeffersonian Institute, the entire forensic division had begun to look like a crime scene itself. Security had grown tight and many guards had been replaced by Bureau agents Brennan recognized as Booth's division peers. People he trusted.

Every person was asked to provide identification at the front door no matter what their status may have been. Bureau police vehicles had taken up the road in front of the building and the lobby was swarming with agents asking people questions. For a brief moment, Brennan was under the impression that she would never be able to get Parker in the building.

She and Parker stared up at the building, Brennan's face an impatient frown and Parker's was just plain curious. Parker looked up at Brennan and pulled on her shirt sleeve. "How come there's so much police here, Dr. Bones?"

Brennan shook her head. "Your dad told me that the case he went to this morning was of the highest priority." She looked down at Parker and held out her hand, smiling tightly. Parker took her hand and stuck the other one in his jacket pocket. "Think we should investigate?" Parker smiled and nodded as they stepped into the road.

When they reached the front door, the blond, doe-eyed female agent standing guard held up her hand. She smiled down at Parker. "You must be Agent Booth's son. You look just like your dad."

"That is a particularly improbable and ill-concluded assumption," Brennan said, frowning. "Their underlying cranial formations are in no way identical."

The FBI agent was silent for a long moment, annoyed that Brennan had made her feel so small. "My mistake."

Brennan nodded. "Yes, but anyone could have made it." As the doctor dug through her pocket, the agent sighed defeated, realizing that was the closest she would come to getting an apology. Brennan held up her Institute issued I.D. "My name is Dr. Temperance Brennan. I am employed by the Jeffersonian, Agent Seeley Booth is my FBI partner." She motioned past the woman.

"I know, Dr. Brennan. Agent Booth has been waiting for you to get here," the agent said and shrugged. "I'm doing what they told me to do. I'm sorry to make this difficult."

As Brennan stuffed her I.D. back in to her pocket, Parker tugged on her hand, knowing full well that the brilliant doctor had no intention of participating in normal social exchange with the agent at the door. "Yes, Parker?"

"Dr. Bones, you're supposed to say thank you." His reminder was innocent and gentle, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Brennan raised her eyes back to the expectant agent. "Oh…" she said and pursed her lips, squaring her shoulders. "Thank you for not making this an unnecessarily arduous encounter," Brennan said half-heartedly. "Can we go in now?"

The agent sighed and shook her head. Having heard of Dr. Brennan's social tactics before, this did not surprise her. She stepped out of the way to allow the doctor and her diminutive Seeley Booth through the entrance. As she pulled Parker Booth through the door after her, he turned around with a charming smile and called, "Thank you!" over his shoulder.

Dr. Brennan could learn something from him.

Several minutes later, Brennan and Parker rounded the corner through the sliding glass security doors. The lab was busy with several agents in black suits crowding around various stations. Cam was calling orders to every intern and full-time employee and Booth was nervously pacing on the platform behind Dr. Jack Hodgins, who was carefully and slowly removing the victim's clothes with the help of two of Cam's pathology interns. A body lay on the table, fully clothed and fully fleshed. Why did they call her in? As she had proclaimed before, flesh was not her forte.

"Alright, people," Cam was ordering, "We've had one too many emergency shut downs here, please take care when dealing with your respective gift. Expect the worse in every package."

Gifts? Packages? Brennan frowned as Booth caught sight of her. He bounded off the platform, relief relaxing the worry lines that creased his forehead.

"Dad!"

"Oh my…Bones! Thank God," he said as he scooped Parker up and held him close.

"Booth, what is going on?"

Cam stepped up beside Booth. "Dr. Brennan, are you alright?"

Brennan shook her head. "I'm fine. Why is there such a heavy FBI presence here?"

Cam and Booth exchanged glances. "This case has taken the top priority in our lab, Dr. Brennan."


End file.
